A POEM FROM THE PLOUGH
... I'm blessed if I can make it aout, It fare like suthin wrong, And what it mean I must be towd By some'un afore long. Whoy iverything's a gooin' on The saine's did afore, Essept the waiges, to be sure- The waige thaigy are lower I And where, I watt to knaow's Them acres three Thaiy promised me, And where's that there owd caow P I towd my mnaite the tother diiy, I say, bor! we are done. No ...